


Artoris Rex

by BardicRaven



Series: Arthurian Past-times [2]
Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BardicRaven/pseuds/BardicRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can see what is right in front of you and still not see clearly. :></p>
            </blockquote>





	Artoris Rex

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexcat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexcat/gifts).



> For Nathara, because she asked. :>
> 
> The first part of this was written for Yuletide 2007 (8? written 12-07), but the second part remained stubbornly hidden until tonight. :>

I love her. I love her beyond reason, beyond sense. I love her hair, her breasts, the warm scent of her as she comes to me in the night.

I know she is not altogether happy with me, and for that I am sorry. I would do what I can to ease her spirits, but I fear that what I can do may not be enough.

She is a wild thing, my Gwen. Bold and headstrong, things that make a man stir in his loins. But also things that make life with her never a sure thing. She keeps me guessing.

Which is a thing I love about her.

Most of the time.

There was the time she ran away, just before we were to be wed. A foolish thing to do, for all it flatters me as the ruler of my lands.

Back then, my hold was not as strong as I would have liked. Brigands of all kinds walked in the woods, and it was no place for a well-born lady like her to be running by herself.

I don't think I've ever prayed as hard in my life as I did that day. I prayed to God that I find her, safe and unharmed. And when He gave me that blessing, I am not ashamed to say that I wept into her golden hair as I made her promise never to leave me again.

I can see it in her eyes tho', that she may be finding it hard to keep that promise. I wish there were more that I could do for her, but even a king cannot change an entire world to please his queen. There are some things that her sex simply forbids her. It's the way the world is, and while we can rail against it all we like, there are simply some realities which no amount of hope can reclaim.

I wonder where she will go, this time, when she runs. It is nothing against my Gwen to say that I know she'll break her promise to me. There are things in the nature of a creature, whether man or beast, that simply cannot be denied.

It is in the nature of my stallion to seek battle and to breed the mares my man sends to him with great lust.

It is in her nature to run. A sleek, beautiful golden greyhound, my Gwen, caught in human form, and unable to run as her nature would bid her.

I will pretend I do not see the longing in her eyes - perhaps that will help her keep ahold of her impetuous nature for another day.

For keep ahold of it she must. Whether she will or no, she is my queen, and while the man might forgive transgressions, the king may not.

In the meantime, I will love her as best I can, hold her in my heart as I love her in our golden bed, and thank God for whatever time He may chose to grant us.

Is it so terribly wrong, is it truly such a sin, to desire that that be for a lifetime?

Gwen, how can I love you enough that your eyes turn from those far horizons back to me?

I do not know what to do, and that alternately infuriates and terrifies me.

So I love you all the more, knowing that it's not enough, but not knowing what else to do.

Yes, my Gwen, now you know - your husband can rule a land, but has no idea of how to keep his queen.

So, yes, you have wanted to know that your husband is a man, as much as he is king. 

Know that yes, I am indeed a man, a man torn between duty and love. I do not like this feeling. I am far more accustomed to being obeyed than defied, still more by my own heart.

Tread carefully, my Gwen. Your footsteps echo on far more than just the cold cobblestones of a castle’s floor. Who you are and what you are here are inextricably mixed, and what you do reflects back on us all.

Please, my Gwen, be careful. Care does not come easily to you, I know that, but take care anyway. For me, for you, for Camelot.

There are those out there who would take great pleasure in overthrowing us both, and shattering the Round Table into dust.

You and my dreams - they are all I have, but they are enough for me.

Are they enough for you?


End file.
